If These Walls Could Talk
by indiefran
Summary: A short bit of fluffy filth to cheer us all.


**A short one-shot for the posters and lurkers of WFCTGIO in these dark clippy cloppy times. I hope it serves as prozac for at least a moment... xxx **

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><p>"Can you hear that noise?"<p>

"Nohguj."

A mumble of non-commitment falling onto his cheek, Syed lifts an eye-brow;

"Was that English?"

"There is no noise…" Christian mumbles, squashing his nose into the hollow of a warm throat, "that was me telling your skin there was no noise."

"There is, I heard it."

He rubs at the calf touching him, signalling a silent reminder of the tangle of limbs;

"Sssh no noise, resting now."

"There is. That noise. Can't you hear it?"

"Your breathing."

Syed's brow crumples;

"Well I hope so…"

"No, _your_ breathing, as in that's the sound. That noise you make, after, when you're all relaxed and warm…"

Christian murmurs;

"Like a baby sloth."

"I _do not_ make a noise, let alone like a –"

"You do."

"No sound has _ever_ come from me that –"

He tugs blindly to gather more sheet;

"Don't ever not. I don't know what I'd do without it."

Syed stills, a smile shaping onto the tufts of hair beneath his lips. He asks quietly;

"Are you sure you can't hear it? I think it's coming from next door you know."

"Bloody neighbours. Let's get them evicted."

"Funny."

"They're lowering the tone. It offends me."

"Funnier still."

"I know."

"It's…" he strains slightly, "…like screeching."

"It's your mother."

"No, it's too high pitched. Not human. Like…an alien."

"Is this you losing your mind?"

"It was bound to happen sooner or later living with you… It's screeching, that's screeching isn't it? It's…"

To a grumbled protest, Syed shuffles slowly from his hold, stretching to press against the wall;

"A Dalek!"

"A what?"

"You know…a Dalek. Short, relentless, unforgiving."

"It is your mother then."

A laughing hand collides with Christian's chest and he grins with half-hearted defence.

"Tam must be watching a DVD…" Syed says fondly, returning to the space an open arm offers.

"It's like we're watching TV together again."

"As long as he doesn't mind that I'm naked."

"He must be watching the classics."

Syed's head turns to clarify;

"Tam doesn't like the new episodes with the Daleks in. He thinks it's wrong that they fly."

"Hey, if they wanna' fly, they should fly."

"Yeah well, there are certain rules to nature Christian."

Christian snorts a laugh;

"I don't think there's anything natural about a metal box man that kills, babe."

Syed traces the tips of his thumb along shoulder skin;

"So judgemental."

"That reminds me...we never did watch Tam's birthday present to you did we…"

"And whose fault was that?"

"I didn't say it was anyone's fault, I was simply commenting…thinking of all things Who…"

Christian raises an eye-brow with a smirk;

"Maybe we should try again?"

"Exactly the same thing will happen again."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Syed smiles slowly;

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Then we agree…"

"_No._ Going into it with at least an intention to watch it is not the same as what you're thinking."

"We could risk it…"

"Let's not pretend that we don't both know that the result is guaranteed. And I refuse to tell Tam we're going to watch it and then yet again having to face endless plot questions related to John Barrowman when all I can see is you standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but a sheet demanding I call you Captain."

"Captain Clarke just sounded too good."

He whispers to his ear;

"Especially from your lips."

"Well it's certainly ruined Torchwood forever. I don't think I'll ever be able to watch it in outside company for fear of what might happen."

"Like Pavlov's dogs?"

"Yes exactly like that."

"It was worth it though. I'd say I don't know if you feel the same but I remember the alien sounds were somewhat…_alien_ –"

"Fuck."

Christian's eyes drop beneath the sheet;

"Jesus did it work that easily? I thought you meant you'd have to at least put the DVD in to get hard and c –"

"If we can hear them…"

Syed turns, wide eyed and mouth gaping;

"They can hear us."

Christian draws out slowly;

"_Yes._"

"No, you're not getting it. If we can hear them, they can _hear us._"

He pauses, piecing together the look of terror on Syed's face. It dawns slowly, hysterical laughter falling from him with no attempt at control.

"This is not funny!"

"Yes it is, it kind of is Sy."

"Oh you think this is funny do you? My mother, our sex life. A side splitting combination. In fact, how on earth could I not find this funny? Everyone wants to involve their mum in their sex life, that's the definition of normality."

"It's…modern?"

"Don't look at me like that. This isn't some repressed little Muslim boy thing, this is normal. Everyone thinks this. You're weird if you don't think it. You're weird. If my mother being anywhere near us whilst we're having sex is either funny or a turn to you, you're weird. Freaky even, I would go as far as to say freaky. And not the good kind."

Christian reaches a hand out, attempting to stroke an edge of calmness through ruffled hair;

"_If_ they can hear – and it's a big if – she probably doesn't even know it's us."

Syed says flatly;

"We live next door Christian. Who else would it be?"

"I don't know. The milkman. Maybe she thinks I'm shagging the milkman."

"Is that meant to be a good thing?"

"I don't know. Possibly."

He groans, shaking his head unblinkingly.

"Let's face it, the milkman would have to happen to also be called Syed considering your…vocal routine."

Christian smirks, leaning to whisper in his ear;

"You don't like me saying your name?"

"What I like isn't the point."

"That's always the point."

"The point right now is that it's another hole in your anonymity theory."

"I'll just have to start calling you something else then."

He bites his lip, pondering;

"Sweet cheeks. Peach arse. Caramel cups…"

"There's a theme emerging."

"S."

"Like Superman?"

"Masood?"

The response comes in unison;

"Eugh."

"Hot stuff."

"No."

"Twink dink."

"Double no."

"Well I'm all out. What am I supposed to do now?"

Syed looks at him;

"You've got two options. We move out, lose the deposit, end up homeless. We stay, we keep the money and the flat, we never have sex again."

"They're my two options?"

"Yes."

Christian stills, staring at dark wide lashes falling onto lust pinked cheeks;

"Start packing. I know a really great park bench."


End file.
